Just Another Day
by JuseaPeterson
Summary: SPOILERS FOR DEATHLY HALLOWS.  Those who have read it can guess what this will be about.  It's from George's POV after the book.


Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

_Author's Note: Okay, after reading the last book, which I did love, a story came into my head which was about George with Fred's death. How JK Rowling could do something so horrible as to kill only one of the twins is beyond me, but there it was as I cried. In fact even now thinking about it makes me cry. This idea was in my head but I knew I needed a bit of time before I could write—I didn't want to loose it as I wrote, well at least not as much. I checked fanfic and found out that sure enough many people had written about it, and who couldn't? Well, I decided to add to the list, hoping someone else didn't have this specific idea. Although I will run through the list, just to be certain. I hope you…well enjoying it is not accurate, so I hope I do some justice to George and Fred through this story. I don't do angst normally so if it sucks I'm sorry. Thanks for reading._

**Just another Day**

George stumbled into the Great Hall. He saw a lot of people dead. He couldn't see Fred. There was his Mum and Dad. Bill, Charlie, Percy, Ron and Ginny. But not Fred. Where was Fred? He stumbled forward only to find himself lying cold on the floor, all warmth had abandoned the body. George silently fell to his own body touching the face, seeing the smile as though something funny had just happened. This couldn't be real, Fred couldn't be dead.

George woke with a start. His clock didn't wake him up. He frowned at that realizing that he must have forgotten to set it. He sat up in bed, he had had another weird dream, and he just never seemed to remember his dreams these days. Why didn't Fred come and wake him up? That wasn't like him. He got up listening to the silence around him. It was odd that Fred was being this quiet; perhaps Fred had also slept in. Things had gotten crazy recently and so of course they were both probably too tired and had both forgotten to set their alarms.

He slowly left his room and went right across the hall to Fred's. Without even knocking he went in, there was never a need to knock before. He raised his eyebrows in mild shock that his brother's bed was there, empty. The covers were drawn slightly and the pillows arranged as to how Fred slept. He pursed his lips together and wondered what caused his twin to get up so quickly. A smile crept to George's face which felt somewhat foreign to him. He shook it off as he then remembered that the bed was still as such left unmade by a hastened morning. Fred had come up with something and they had taken off to help with the war, and he had forgotten to make his bed. Now his bed would never be made. George quietly closed the door and walked back to his room standing a bit shorter than when he had awoken earlier.

After George got dressed he walked over to the breakfast table and without thinking used his wand to bring up two breakfasts. He sat down and waited. How long he waited he didn't know, but soon he remembered he would always eat alone now. His brother was dead. Dead. That word was supposed to be anything but in relation to Fred. After a while he realized that once more his appetite was gone. How could he even think of eating when he wasn't completely living anymore?

As he got up from the table he felt something by his feet. Looking down he saw papers—Fred and his papers' on future inventions. They all seemed worthless right now. He would give up their entire shop just to see Fred again. He went to the door but before entering the world his brother would no longer be in he closed his eyes and clenched his fists trying not to cry. However as he closed his eyes his brother came into mind immediately. When he turned Ron's bear into a spider, when they had turned Percy's glasses into an animal so when he reached for them in the morning they ran away. Percy. Percy had been there when it happened. Percy had made a joke. George kicked the wall he should have been there. If he had only been there. He gulped for air hating it because his brother could no longer breathe it.

He went down to their shop. Their dream. Everything was still closed. Of course it was closed; Fred hadn't been there to open it. And yet, George called out Fred's name hoping a hopeless battle that he would hear an answer. There was a quiet echo throughout the store making it seem twice as big as normal. A smile faintly crossed his features. They had talked about expanding it like the Ford Anglia, but they hadn't gotten a chance to try it yet. He looked up and down the aisles—there was nothing there. He snorted; nothing seemed to be a more familiar feeling to George; he shuddered at the thought knowing that Fred would want him to live his life. How could he live his life when half of his soul was gone?

The red-haired man saw a newspaper that had been ripped up on the floor. Odd. Why hadn't it been cleaned up last night? He would talk to Fred about that. Fred would sometimes leave things on the floor. But then this wasn't Fred. The article had Fred's name as a victim. This paper had been thrown on the floor by George.

George searched the back room, their test room, their room, for any signs of Fred knowing that he would never find him, not here anyways. The sides of his mouth tugged in hopes of a smile but they were denied. He headed back out to the front of the store to pick up the paper. As he bent to get it he heard a knock at their door. He realized that the store was supposed to be opened already. He walked as quickly as he could to the front door and opened it to let Verity in.

She gave a small smile, "Hi Mr. Weasley. How are you today?"

He pulled off a full smile, "Fine." And then his smile departed.

She walked to the back of the store while George unlocked and put up the 'Open' signs. He walked back to the counter and got the rest of the store ready with Verity. Why George kept getting a sinking feeling he wasn't sure, but every moment he didn't see Fred walk through the doors was a moment of agonizing pain as if he had lost him all over again. This happened everyday and yet he something made him open the store; it made him feel as though Fred was still there. He shook his head, Fred wasn't coming back. Fred had left him. How was that possible? They did everything together. They were supposed to die together, that would have been a lot better than the empty feeling that consumed him day and night.

The door opened and a few customers came in. George instantly was there helping, although he continually found it hard to smile and by the time of close he found that he was having a hard time with just being there. An ache inside of him that he had pushed down kept getting bigger. But before he had much time to think about it Verity came over. "You Mum wanted you for dinner, if you're willing."

"Of course."

"Alright. I'll be off."

George nodded and closed the store. He looked around and disapparated to the Burrow. As he came onto the ground outside he saw the familiar house. He swallowed and slowly headed into the house. Everyone kept telling him they understand. His family would try to see him at least once a day, and Lee would come around as much as George let him. Angelina, Alicia and Katie would try to talk with him, but it was to no avail. Sure they had lost loved ones, but none of them lost their soul. He couldn't even look in the mirror except when he wanted to see Fred and even then it wasn't Fred because Fred hadn't lost an ear. He entered his old house and when Ginny saw him all seemed to get quiet.

At dinner everyone was being quiet and careful around him. He couldn't think of one joke as he realized that Fred wasn't there. He saw the clock and knew what he had been denying in his heart all day. But he still held hope that when he got home Fred would be in bed. George realized that he was having a hard time at even being alive and saw that he had to remind himself to breath. He quickly backed away from the table and disapparated back to their flat. Fred wasn't in his bed because Fred would never go there again. Fred would never tell jokes again. Fred would never breathe again. And Fred had left George there alone. No one could ever repair this emptiness inside of him. Half of his soul was gone and no one was there to save him. Tears poured from George's eyes again as he sat on the floor outside Fred's room. He wished that you-know-who was still around, because had he been Fred would be alive. Now the only thing George really looked forward to was the sweet time when he would leave this empty world and once more be whole. As George got into bed he sighed for today wasn't anything special. Nothing new happened. No new idea. No further plans on expansion. No, today, just like yesterday and the day before and like it would be tomorrow and the rest of the days until George died, was just another day.


End file.
